


A Study In Eye-Fucking

by LiberAmans214



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angels and Hunters, Castiel Has Feelings for Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel is Not Oblivious (Supernatural), Gen, Hunter Dean Winchester, M/M, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, So profound that they can communicate, mind-reading, telepathically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 04:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21238184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiberAmans214/pseuds/LiberAmans214
Summary: Listen!A voice suddenly hissed at him, though he couldn’t hear it, and he raised his head harshly enough to get whiplash. He let it fall once more.What, had that been Dean’s conscience? What would it even have to say ~ Don’t get caught by demons the next time, or you end up with a hell of a crick in your neck?Dean!The voice in Dean’s head usually used less than flattering curse words for him. It didn’t call him Dean.We can get out of here! Dean! Can you hear me?Wait a fucking minute, this sounded like Cas. And not in the my-family-is-my-voice-of-reason sense. Not even in the angel-on-my-shoulder sense. Dean could, honest to god, hear Castiel’s voice in his head. It was not quite Jimmy’s voice though, it was all in all Cas! How Dean could tell them apart, he had no speck of an idea.But - how?Dean. You can hear me, can’t you?





	A Study In Eye-Fucking

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: So I have this hc that when dean and cas are doing their whole staring-at-each-other-for-far-too-long thing, that cas is actually communicating with dean telepathically. He only does this with dean, and dean secretly likes that it’s their own special thing so doesn’t tell Sam. But when everyone else thinks they’re having eye-sex, they’re actually having their own private conversations.

Dean Winchester was pretty goddamn sure that he, Sam and Cas together were the best damn hunters in the World.

But not every hunt defines you as a hunter. Some days, you take out an entire coven of witches within a couple of days, or hunt down a century-old god, who had recently taken to being a dick.

Other days, a single vampire nest could take a long and tiring week, and you could still end up handcuffed to rusted barrels in an abandoned barn with your angel, trying to stall them from drinking you dead until your brother could figure out where the both of you were kidnapped to, and save the day.

“We aren’t giving Dean Winchester up in exchange for you, blue-eyes.” The apparent leader tossed her head, her attention completely taken by Cas. “Everybody knows you can’t sucking off an angel isn’t fun, right, gorgeous?” She added, in Dean’s general direction, making him want to knock her out even more than he already did.

If she wanted to make an innuendo, she didn’t even do that right.

“But that way, you’d at least have one of us.” Castiel reasoned, but Dean recognized his voice as insincere. At least he hoped. The plan was to waste time. Not give themselves over to dumb, evil bitches.

“What do you mean, right now, we have both of you?” She threw back.

“Not for long.” Dean spat, from his position on the ground. His hands were tied behind him, and he was unable to look up straight without the shooting pain at the back of his neck.

“If this is about Winchester XL, lemme just say, that he’s not coming to save you anytime soon.” She smirked.

Dean saw red, instantly. “Listen here, you -”

“Come on, Ken, you stay here with these two. I’m going to go take a look at the others,” She commanded, and the guy walked over in Cas’s general region, the proximity uncomfortable, as he waited wordlessly with his eyes on Dean, and his hand on the iron pole to which Castiel was tied - they had angel cuffs tying his wrists to chains and their bulkiest vampire assigned to the task, while Dean had been simply punched until he was rendered the equivalent of a sack of swearing potatoes and cuffed on the stone cold floor. It wasn’t exactly fair.

Moreover, the new guy didn’t look like he’d take any of their shit if they tried to negotiate him into a get-out-of-jail-alive card, and who was content enough to be a breathing stone pillar as he was told to be.

Oh, curse God for villains who didn’t monologue or had ambitions.

_Listen!_

A voice suddenly hissed at him, though he couldn’t hear it, and he raised his head harshly enough to get whiplash. He let it fall once more.

What was Dean’s conscience trying to tell him, right now? (Don’t get caught by demons the next time, or you end up with a helluva crick in your neck?)

_Dean!_

The voice in Dean’s head usually used less flattering curse words for him. It didn’t call him Dean.

_We can get out of here! Dean! Can you hear me?_

Wait a fucking minute, this sounded like Cas.

And not in the my-family-is-my-voice-of-reason sense. Not even in the angel-on-my-shoulder sense.

Dean could, honest to god, hear Castiel’s voice in his head. It was not quite Jimmy’s voice though, it was all in all Cas! How Dean could tell them apart, he had no speck of an idea.

But - how?

_You can hear me, can’t you?_

Dean painstakingly raised his head to meet the angel’s eyes. Ken, or whatever his name was, wasn’t looking at Dean anymore, he was looking at Cas. Cas, on the other hand, had his eyes focused on Dean for sure.

Dean nodded, in response to the question from before.

_Is it really you?_ He thought real hard, and saw Cas wince a little bit.

_You don’t need to shout! We’ve already established that the connection is stable. And of course, it IS me._

Dean could feel his head whirring towards a more paranoid headache.

_What connection, what the fuck is even happening? How are you doing this? _He breathed.

Cas gave him a glare, that looked awfully like, that’s not a priority, though Dean didn’t hear it ring through his brain.

_Dean. Listen to me. When these vampires were disarming me, I made sure to push my angel blade away. It’s got to be somewhere near you. You need to get it._

Dean instantly began to fumble around, clumsily. The vamp in the room turned sharply to him.

“Just an itch.” Dean excused, before going very still. This time, his eyes didn’t leave Dean. He still held onto Castiel’s iron chains.

Dean looked down at himself, to avoid eye contact. Are you sure it’s somewhere behind me?

There was no response.

No voices at all.

Dean looked up again, and suddenly Cas’s voice came in again. _You need to keep looking into my eyes._

An involuntary heat rushed up Dean’s throat. He suddenly paid an extraordinary amount of attention to the blue, blue eyes of his friend. Castiel went on. _I’m not an archangel, only they can communicate without it._

Dean swallowed, and forced a smile at the big lug who still glared at Dean, before he met Castiel’s eyes again. He was careful to not be expressive. Cas had it easy, he rarely looked like he meant something he said, or thought. He repeated himself. _Are you sure it’s behind me?_

_No_. Followed by a distinct, _But you need to look. It’s our only chance._

Dean almost nodded but remembered that the vampire still had his eyes on him, so stressed out an _Okay_.

_Don’t scream your affirmations in my head, please._ Castiel deadpanned, even his voice adorning a very Cas-like tone. Dean felt the twitch of a smile.

He began to look, much more subtle this time.

_I’ve got it._ He thought softly, before realizing he didn’t need to whisper in this - whatever the hell this kind of communication network was.

Use it.

Castiel didn’t even have to think it at him, his eyes did the job. A single touch of the blade to the ropes had them loosening. Hopefully not melting, though, but Dean couldn’t turn his head to see. Angel blades were apparently multi-utility tools.

Once the ropes were severed, it was Dean Winchester’s turn to shine. Ken got an elbow in the face, and a kick in the shin before Dean began to cut off Castiel’s chains, and when Ken showed up again and had Dean in a surprise headlock - what an ideal villain - Dean stabbed him with the blade, and deftly cut his throat off.

The tale of how the hunter and his angel, freshly freed and armed, got from there to the motel room, was one which has been told several times.

***

Sam was very much asleep when Dean and Castiel had time to talk, Castiel had healed him but he had bled out a lot, and Dean’s insistence that he take some rest, had resulted in sam beginning to use his laptop whilst on his bed - and soon slumping off to sleep, with it’s screen still lit.

Dean later shut down the computer, while Castiel pulled the sheets over his legs.

Being a hunter had very few perks, but it had several drawbacks, such as having to go out of the small room to have a serious conversation - lest you risk waking up your brother who, as all hunters, was prone to light sleep.

Dean almost pulled Castiel outside, and deciding that talking outside the door would be ridiculous, so they walked all the way outside the motel. Dean leaned against the impala, and Castiel stood straight and watched him.

At the moment, it had been easy enough to get over the realization, that he and castiel were communicating through thoughts. There was pain, and there was danger - and there was the factor of time.

Now under the starlit sky, it was just Dean and Cas, and like hell, there weren’t questions.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “What the hell was that, back in the barn? With the-” His eyes were wide with shock, when he met Castiel’s again. “With the goddamn mind reading, Cas!”

“I..” Castiel didn’t sound as sure as Dean would’ve assumed he was going to. “I just tried something. And it worked.”

“What did you try?” Dean pursed his lips.

“To see if I could tell you something,” Castiel was still uncertain how he would explain something like this to Dean. “Without saying it aloud.”

“Yeah, well, your dick-ish brothers and sisters have gotten into my head often enough,” Dean snapped. “This was different. I was in control too! I could send things back that route through!”

“I agree,” Cas nodded. “It was like a telepathic connection.”

“I’m not.. Psychic or whatever, Cas! I can’t do this shit, eye contact or not!” Dean recalled.

“Dean.” Castiel sounded more firm. “It was a moment of distress. Those vampires would’ve turned you, and found the blade soon enough to kill me too. And I felt like - there was something I could do.”

“Just like that?” Dean was quieter.

“It was like a string, within reachable distance, and I strained my grace to get to it. And I could pull it. So I did, and..and you picked it up then, by looking into my eyes.” It was as if Castiel was explaining it to himself too, not just to Dean.

“I don’t know how I ‘picked’ anything up.” Dean wondered aloud. Helpless. “I don’t it know how it worked, at all-”

“Dean” Castiel suddenly walked towards him. There was only a foot of distance between their chests, and Castiel blinked clearly at him. “Look at me.”

Dean hesitantly raised his eyes from the ground, and felt them flicker all over Cas’s features. He was embarrassed, because Cas may be dense in general, but anyone would understand if a dude’s eyes kept flitting back to your lips, right? Rigidly, Dean made himself focus on Cas’s eyes. They were ocean blue in the sun, but tinted with the grey of the late evening right now. It was certainly not the first time Dean noticed the angel’s eyes. “I am.”

“Would you… could you really look into my eyes?” Castiel asked, he sounded so sincere, that Dean didn’t have it in himself to make a lewd joke.

He simply obeyed, letting himself drown in the black pupils, not letting his sight wander past the beautiful hues of the iris, or-

_Dean!_

Dean blinked suddenly, and Castiel clasped his bicep with his right hand, to make him focus. His eyes sought all of Dean’s attention.

_Dean?_

_So now, this is apparently a thing_. Dean thought, and somehow it was enough. _We’re telepathy buddies, who think into each other’s heads._

For a long moment, Cas simply looked into his eyes. But Dean didn’t hear anything from him. There was a pleasant silence of all of Cas’s attention on him.

It was when Dean began to wonder if the connection had broke, or if Dean was suddenly incapable of hearing Cas’s thoughts anymore, that a small, mellow voice he hardly recognized as Cas came floating through the front of his brain.

It was unsure, and almost a little timid. Maybe even sad. It wasn’t what Dean expected.

_Is this so bad?_

Of course it wasn’t, who was he kidding? But Cas’s face had crumbled into an apologetic look, though his eyes stayed focused on Dean’s- and Dean understood that not everything he thought was audible to Cas. It was - it was perfectly under his control too!

However, that meant that Cas believed that Dean hated this- except the truth was far from it. It was unbelievable, yes; but this was Cas. _It wasn’t - it couldn’t be… bad_. Dean suddenly wondered how much of his thoughts were audible to Cas, not quite having a good hold on it yet.

_I never said that_. Dean swallowed, as if testing waters. _It’s weird, not gonna lie, but it isn’t exhausting, and it could be helpful. And okay, maybe it could be fun-ishh too._

Castiel smiled a bit, and his eyes suddenly seemed to light up literally, and a wave floated through the ‘string’ apparently, uplifting Dean’s spirits too. He smiled too, realizing that he’d never seen Cas smile, this real and beautiful, up close.

And then he suddenly stopped smiling, realizing that _he’d never seen Cas smile, this real and beautiful, this up close,_ and that had just made him smile.

Whoa, Winchester - bring it down a notch. He looked away, almost on instinct, a heat crawling up his neck.

“This is gonna need some getting used to,” Dean declared, putting his own hand on Castiel’s shoulder - because apparently two grown men staring deeply into each other’s eyes in the parking lot of a cheap motel, wasn’t inappropriate enough to be considered gay, with only one of them touching the other.

(If someone were doing a commentary on Dean’s life, they’d need to pepper in the fact of how the oldest Winchester was truly prone to being a helping hand to bring about situations which embarrassed him infinitely, in the confines of his own head, later.)

Dean pulled off his hand, almost that very next moment, and turned away from him, towards Baby. Thinking. There was so much to think about.

“Can I tell you something?” Castiel spoke up, his voice ever so thoughtful. “This is not… the first time I saw this. Angels can do it, angels who were raised together, who have fought together. Archangels find it simple. But seraphs like us?” He sighed. “Uriel had recently discovered we were able to do it, just a few decades back, but we tried it rarely, and now he..”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean meant it, and he bit his lip. “But, what about me? I wasn’t - I’m not him, and I wasn’t raised with you, angel.” It didn’t strike him that he’d just called Castiel angel until sufficiently later, half-asleep in bed and replaying the conversation, and it was a miracle that he didn’t panic out of sight when it happened.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Castiel spoke, after a pause. “But there were stories. Of humans being able to do this, rarely. Very rarely.”

“What did I do -?” Dean stopped, not saying ‘wrong’, because Cas would probably not understand he meant it as a joke. And not saying ‘right’ either, because that wasn’t something he’s say out loud.

“It wasn’t something you did. I do not know why it happened for you and me, Dean. But,” Castiel stared at him keenly. Dean looked back at his eyes, and once again, he could feel them relapsing into their own bubble, where words didn’t need to be uttered to be understood. It was kind of fascinating.

Castiel paused, as if testing the string again, or maybe just wondering how to say it. When he finally does, his voice trembles a bit. And he’s searching in Dean’s eyes, some sort of reassurance; involuntarily.

_I have heard it happens for those who are bonded._

Dean was suddenly grateful that Cas didn’t say that out loud, because Dean would have been absolutely incapable of responding with anything at all. But since this was just between them, there were only traces of a boundary, yet no intrusion- Dean felt the courage to think distinctly.

_Then maybe you _do_ know why it happened for us._

*

That’s why, when Cas throws the ‘profound bond’ line at Sam, Dean instantly panicked. Castiel met his eyes, sending a, _What’s the matter?_

Dean could only scoff his denial out loud, and glare a _Not in front of my brother, jackass_, into Castiel’s irritatingly blue eyes.

*

In his defense, Dean doesn’t know how long Sam has been noticing it. But it’s got to be in the middle of a fight that he calls them out on it. It’s the middle of the goddamn showdown of the hunt. It’s the Winchesters and Castiel against dozens of demons; the angel whirred around, killing plenty, with expertise and his bright blade; Sam was exorcising loudly, from memory, as he fought off more demons using Ruby’s knife, and Dean shot at all the monsters in between.

When Dean gets a spare second - the Winchesters look like they’ve almost already won, and most demons are fighting to lose now - he whips his head in Cas’s direction. The latter is always majestic when he’s in his element, a glorious warrior.

Dean watches Cas flung a demon over, and pin him to the ground with a flourish, extracting a dying gasp as Castiel lands next to him with a palm on his sternum, displaying strength that should’ve been impossible; and Dean gapes. As if on cue, Castiel turns to face him, and there’s a triumphant spark in his eyes, and a smirk dangling tangent from the corner of his lips. It’s an absolute scene to die for, and he doesn’t look past Dean.

_Dean_. Castiel suddenly speaks, directly into Dean’s nerves.

_That was so cool! You flipped him midair, it was something else, dude! Whoa!_ Dean lets out, in a hurry.

Castiel’s eyes don’t leave Dean’s, but they crinkle into a smile. _You have blood in your hair._

_I could do with a compliment too, but sure, worry more about my hair, why don’t you?_ Dean runs a hand violently through his hair, to get it off.

_You’re an excellent fighter, and you know it. The fact that there was dry blood in your hair was something that you didn’t know, so I mentioned it._ Castiel almost teased, and it stunned Dean how natural it felt suddenly. To have the voice of an angel echoing through his head, delivering lines in a deadpan. All while he got to stare into those fantastic baby blues, which starred in more dreams than Dean appreciated.

Come to think of it, Dean had no idea what he looked like, right now. Frozen in the middle of a fight scene, with eyes locked with Castiel’s, and no will to look away. His jaw basically hung, rapt in attention.

_Don’t be that way_. Dean sent back. _Listen. Will you stay after the hunt tonight, Cas?_

_Do you need me to?_ Instantly resonated.

Once again, Dean surprised himself. But he was also beginning to realize that he could be both spontaneous and brave, when it came to saying the stuff he wanted to, when they communicated this way. Dean proposed, swiftly.

_Nah, I was just thinking. If you were living with us tonight, we could make plans, you know - maybe a movie, some classic, of course; or maybe burgers and -_

_**DEAN**! Turn around, and **SHOOT**! HE’S BEHIND YOU!_

Dean spun around as fast as he could, following thoughtlessly and firing away. His thoughts returned to him slower, still stuck on the way Cas’s eyes widened with sheer worry, when they saw Dean was in danger. Before he could think ahead, the body of an armed demon dropped at his feet, with a bullet in his head.

Castiel had sounded terrified for his sake, eyes suddenly wide and his booming baritone piercing through Dean’s bodily systems to make his muscles move just right. Never had Castiel’s voice overpowered all of his senses again - not once, after that one time in the abandoned shack, after the former raised him from hell.

”…Dean!“ Came Sam’s voice, trailing closer, and it was as if he’d been yelling for long - though Dean could only hear it now. “Are you okay!?”

“Yeah,” Dean touched the corpse with his boot. “Just peachy.” Their surroundings were silent, and all the demons had been killed. Sam ran towards him, frantic, and stopped as he began to yell, harshly clutching his brother’s shoulder, to get himself back together.

“You - you idiot! Both of you! Well, if you hadn’t been staring at each other’s mugs,” He declared, turning his head to include Castiel in his reprimand. “You’d have seen the demon coming sooner!”

Dean swallowed, suddenly overcome with the realization of what it looked like, each time they did it. Fuck. He hadn’t been thinking.

Sam wasn’t done yet. He’d been keeping it in for too long. “What is up with you, Dean!? I would think you got enough of looking at each other from what you keep doing, all frigging day!” It was as if Sam had taken the panic he felt at seeing his brother almost killed, and combined it with the frustration piling since almost a fortnight now into a mound of anger, that he shoved in their faces. “I mean - it doesn’t matter to me, you do you and be happy being yourself - but at least put the pining away when you’re in the middle of a fight!”

“It’s not pining, what the fuck do you mean?” Dean objected indignantly. “It is -” And he suddenly stopped mid-sentence. He looked at Castiel, but the angel was looking at the ground, almost as if he believed he was responsible for Dean’s almost-murder - while clearly he was the reason Dean was still alive!

Dean commenced on a trail of thoughts himself.

Didn’t Sam know at all? Well, should he? Did he really need to?

Okay, if he thought about it, probably _not_.

It wasn’t about this being a Dean-and-Cas thing. No. It wasn’t about that at all, that’d be ridiculous. It was plain and simple about keeping Sam from being a smartass about it, for forever later.

So that settled it.

Sam didn’t need to know.

_Were you telling me something?_ Castiel suddenly popped up in his head, sounding grave.

_I was trying to think something at you, but never mind,_ Dean got swept up in the feeling of replying to the angel through his thoughts, feeling himself put every emotion through a channel to get to him, to remember that Sam was still right there -

“Oh, there you go again!” Sam whined, before beginning to storm away. “Don’t try to stop me from driving away in your car, Dean! You can just keep staring,” He snarked. “And try to get it out of your system before you return to the motel!”

Castiel walked to Dean, slowly, once Sam had left, leaving his rant in the middle. “Your brother -” He began.

“Obviously you don’t do this with him, because he has no idea,” Dean remarked, if he didn’t already know.

“It isn’t intentional.” Castiel defended.

Dean nodded. He walked a few steps on the path where his brother had marched off, seconds before. He knew Sammy - and knew that that was just an outburst for no reason but venting the sudden adrenaline, and he was just being the regular prissy cares-for-Dean’s-life bitch, he’s always been trying to be. It didn’t bother him as much as it would’ve, if Sam knew about the ‘bond’; especially what Dean thought of it as, inwardly.

Castiel blinked, bringing him back to the present. “But, Dean? What does Sam think, then? What do we do, when we look at each other’s eyes?”

“…uh, just _look_, I- I guess.” Dean stammered, fidgety. “It’s not a big deal, c'mon, let’s get back to Baby before the kid actually leaves. And hey, uh, about the heads-up about the demon, back then? I didn’t get ganked totally because of you, so - thanks.” Castiel looked at him like he didn’t make sense, which was pretty unfair, because he totally did, right? He was being extremely clear about all of this. Was dealing with all his new _feelings_ like a pro.

He’d obviously been giving off the vibe, that meant that Dean was completely over the freak out phase associated with the fact that what their telepathic crap meant was that they were ‘bonded’ - or whatever, who cares - and was only attached to what that meant for him ~ that Cas could hear Dean’s thoughts and he had a choice to not let him, but he did let him, so that was supposed to mean something - and he saved Dean’s life almost periodically at this point, so that was another perk of having him around, except for the fact that he got to look into his eyes - and Dean was going to keep this entire complicated thing from his brother, as if it were his overdue gay panic, to be later referred to as a mid-life (sexuality) crisis.

Okay. Maybe it was the opposite of out in the open.

But perhaps Dean could ask Cas to look into his eyes, and go over these (that were so hard to actually say out loud) again, because yeah, that was a thing that they did now.

Dean Winchester had a weird life, and he was extremely happy to be living it right now, as Cas blinked at him and said, “Of course, Dean, always,” in response to the thanking, and followed him out of the room where they’d just killed an entire troop of demons and saved the state of Kansas, and as Dean plotted to push Sam right of the driver’s seat, and mentally made a note to start paying more attention to the setting before he starts staring at Cas. Apparently.

~~~

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, the end is kind of abrupt, but there's a part II coming up sometime soon.
> 
> The prompt definitely made me think, and I think it was a good think. I hope you had a good time! Thank you for reading ~ Keep it sailing!


End file.
